


Deer in the headlights

by thatsthefrailtyofgenius



Series: Girls like girls [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, liv's having a lil bit of a panic bless her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:29:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7725136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsthefrailtyofgenius/pseuds/thatsthefrailtyofgenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liv doesn't really understand why she's supposed to go to this stupid wedding in the first place; its not like she knows Zak or Joanie all that well. Besides, she has her own problems to deal with, like, you know, girls and their annoying beautiful faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deer in the headlights

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little standalone piece because I really, really want Liv to have her own storyline.

Liv shifts awkwardly and humphs, reaching one hand up to fiddle with her hair. She almost itches her eyebrow until Gabby slaps her hand away and threatens her with death if she ruins her masterpiece.

Although, she’ll never admit it out loud, but she fuckin adores the outfit. Aaron had taken her out special, on a mall day, and told her she could pick anything she wanted. And she’d fallen in love with this tailored suit the moment she’d seen it. It’s a light mint green, and the woman in the shop had helped her pick one to fit her every curve.

The shoes are ridiculously high and a dark suede black; a gift from Gabby, who’s not even attending the bloody wedding, but never misses the opportunity for a makeover.

She does feel a little bit uncomfortable and embarrassed; her hoodies and Nikes are like her armour, and she’s sort of been stripped of it. But she also feels pretty, which isn’t a common thing these days, and something she’s definitely thankful for.

She ignores the fluttering in her tummy as Gabby pulls her own hair back in a band out of her face, revealing a flush neck and elegant collar bones. She sort of wants to die a little if she lets herself dwell on those butterflies for too long. Instead, she decidedly digests them, and sneaks a shot of Vodka whilst Aaron’s out having his lunchtime cig.

“You look gorg, babe,” Gabby grins, stepping back to examine her work. Liv rolls her eyes and grumbles a string of swear words that would but Andrew Minyard to shame. But she obliges her best friend when she takes out her phone and snaps a picture for Instagram. Gabby is planning to go into hair and beauty when they’re done with their GCSEs and she calls her Insta, her ‘portfolio’.

“I just want this over and done with to be honest”

“Go bung a fag off Aaron; I’m sure he wouldn’t mind this once”

“I’ve got my own,” she sighs, shaking her shoulders and wringing her manicured hands, as though the anxiety is falling off the irritated surface of her skin with the movement.

“Cheer up, you might meet a fit lad”

“They’re all Aaron’s relatives! Them lot might be into incest, but I sure aint”

“We all have to compromise our morals sometimes, Olivia,” Gabby says, although she’s smiling as she steps forward and adjusts a stray hair on Liv’s fringe. She presses a supportive kiss between her eyebrows and Liv fights the urge to mime shooting herself in the head.

The whole concept of ‘meeting a fit lad’ makes her incredibly uneasy. Just the thought of clumsy boyish hands anywhere near her makes her cringe, and she certainly doesn’t want to kiss anything that smells more like axe body spray than an actual human being.

“I think I will go and have that fag you know,” she says, clearing her throat awkwardly and wetting her lips, rolling herself one from the baccy, filters and rizzlas she has hidden in the lining of her purse.

“Alright,” Gabby says, gathering her things and unplugging the hair curlers “just remember; relax, smile, and try to enjoy yourself. It won’t hurt to have fun once in a while”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am super chill all the time”

Gabby snorts and kisses Liv’s forehead again, before leaving. After another shot (or two), Liv slips the silver lighter from the pocket of her bespoke trousers and draws in a steadying breath.

When she goes round the back, she finds Aaron leant against the wall with one hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other nursing a cigarette. He tuts at her when she can’t get her lighter to work, and begrudgingly passes her his own. He looks like he’s struggling with something for a few moments, and eventually she loses her patience.

“Fuck sake, Aaron, just spit it out”

“Alright!” he says, shifting “touchy. I was just thinkin, you look beautiful”

“Christ,” she breathes, shaking her head in exasperation and willing herself not to blush or tear up. Soft twat.

“Thanks,” she says “that Robert’s tie?”

“He says all mine are ugly"

“He’s not wrong”

“Ay!” he chuckles slightly, nudging her as she lets out a calming stream of smoke through painted mauve lips “less of the cheek, you”

“I can still take you in heels, y’know?”

“Dream on, mate”

To prove a point, she digs the point of her heel into the front of his foot and revels in the curses that come tumbling out of his mouth.

“Jesus,” he says “I let you get away with murder sometimes”

“Don’t speak too soon; I’ve still got the rest of my teens to go yet”

Aaron just glares at her. There’s no malice there though, just a disgruntled big brother being teased by his little sister. It’s something she’s still getting used to, but also the best thing that’s ever happened to her. She doesn’t think she’s ever loved anyone as much as she loves Aaron, and she’d die for him without a seconds thought. He’s the kindest person she’s ever met.

“C’mon then, you,” he sighs heavily when she’s done with her cigarette “let’s get going before that make up gives you a hernia”

* * *

 

The wedding is sickening as she’d expected it to be. Joanie shows up an hour late, the Southampton Dingles are loud and all have established dynamics that make her feel a little isolated and tired.

Everyone compliments her on her outfit though, which is nice, if not slightly insulting, since it insinuates she rarely looks pretty like this. Still, beggars can’t be choosers and all that bullshit.

The other problem with weddings of course, is that everyone else looks beautiful too. Particularly the women. Specifically the younger women. Distinctively, the girl with the Irish lot.

She seems to be about Liv’s age, and she’s around the same height, with cropped blue hair and a soft face. Her eyes are a stunning hazel green and resembles some sort of spring angel in the long flowy blue dress cut low on the front and backless too.

“Is it over yet?”

“If you pretend to look happy, I’ll buy you a beer later”

“Three beers,” she says “and a new pouch of baccy”

“Liv-”

“You want me to smile?” she says, raising her eyebrows at Aaron “that’s what it costs”

“You’re such a little shit sometimes,” Aaron narrows his eyes at her, but again, he fails to look even remotely angry. He gives in and nods, returning her patronising grin before focusing back on the vows.

She makes an effort to avoid looking at the Irish girl, and makes it through the whole ceremony. It’s only when she sparks a fag on the way out of the church and the Irish girl asks for a light, that Liv decides the whole universe is against her.

“I like your suit,” the girl says, smiling at her. Liv feels the world shift and her chest contract.

“Thanks,” she says “your – uh – your dress is nice too”

“Thanks,” the girl replies, amused by Liv’s awkwardness “but I don’t really like weddings. Fish out of water with these lot, considering how big weddings are for the family”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to one that actually needs a bucket for empty beer cans”

The girl laughs with her whole body, shaking her head and moving to sit on the bench, gesturing for Liv to follow.

“You’re not a Dingle, are you?”

“Nah,” Liv says, accepting the silver flask of alcohol the girl offers her “Aaron’s my half-brother”

“You must be Olivia”

“Liv,” she says, not making eye contact.

“Soz, Liv. You’re lucky as fuck; Aaron’s the coolest”

“Aaron’s a lot of things, but he is definitely not cool”

The girl grins and rolls her eyes.

“I’m Jemima, but everyone calls me Jem”

“Everyone?"

“Well,” Jem nudges her softly, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip, somehow managing to look both innocent and shamelessly suggestive at the same time “only the people I like”

Liv has to repress the whole shooting herself thing again, and abruptly feels very hot under the collar, restricted in the women’s suit, and kind of like a deer caught very suddenly in the headlights. This stupid girl crush thing is getting out of hand.

Liv is just about to say something defensive to put her off, when Jem slips a piece of paper out of her purse and writes her mobile number on it.

“In case you don’t have time to talk to me tonight,” Jem says, and reaches out a hand to take Liv’s free one, squeezing gently. She leans in a little closer to avoid prying ears, and Liv is surprised when her voice is comforting and full of understanding.

“We’re fifteen,” she tells her quietly “we don’t have to have everything figured out. But I know that look when I see it, mate; just don’t keep beating yourself up about it. You have nothing to be ashamed of”

And then, like nothing just happened, Jem is walking off in the direction of the rest of the family, heading to the pub for the reception.

Liv doesn’t know whether she wants to cry, laugh hysterically, or spontaneously combust. Probably a combination of the three, but right now she’s itchy under the make-up and Jem’s number is still clenched in her clammy palm, and she feels more exposed than ever.

Fuck.


End file.
